


On Their Hands

by PaintedPetrichor



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Voltron Whump Week 2017
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 10:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11895585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintedPetrichor/pseuds/PaintedPetrichor
Summary: God,Hunk thinks,she looks so small.Pidge barely makes it back to the castle, and Hunk can't help but feel responsible.





	On Their Hands

There’s a lump forming in Hunk’s throat. _God,_ he thinks, _she looks so small_. It’s never easy seeing his teammates injured, but he doesn’t think he can handle this. Pidge is dwarfed by the chamber, more so in her current condition. Her pained expression is so foreign on her face, the med bay suit she’s dressed in looks all wrong, and-

“This… this is definitely the worst time,” Hunk says, turning away. He can’t look anymore; this isn’t a reality he’s ready to face yet. Or ever.

He sees Lance tip his head back in his chair, trying not to think about the tube sticking out of his arm, collecting more blood than was probably safe. “Yeah,” Lance says, “this uh… this doesn’t feel right.” 

Hunk nods. His gaze finds his hands. They’re fine, Hunk knows; he took off his armor hours ago, and with it the blood that had caked his gloves, but the memory is still there.

On his hands.

His hands, the ones that had trembled as he reached to remove his helmet, untie his headband, and tear the strip of fabric in half. The same hands that gave one half to Lance and told him to make the tightest knot he’d made in his life. The hands that showed him to to do it, while he prayed that he was doing it right, that he was doing the right thing.

“Lance, do you think she’ll be okay?”

Lance laughs. It’s not a happy sound, but a short, bitter one. “That’s... kind of a loaded question, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Hunk replies, still examining every inch of his forearms for traces of his friend’s blood. His skin was still crawling, there must be _something_ still there _._ “I know.”

It baffles him how easy the decision had been. Adrenaline, Hunk figures, or maybe he had been so caught up in the moment, the situation, that taking to Pidge’s trapped limbs with a sword hadn’t phased him.

“Oh, man,” Hunk whispers, sparing another look up at the healing pod. “O-oh, oh god,” he stammered, louder this time, wide eyes fixed in front of him. “Lance, Lance I _did_ this. This is _my_ fault. Why did I- _How-_ ”

“Aw, crap.” Lance sits up almost immediately. Finding himself trapped by the tubes facilitating his blood donation, Lance reaches out his free hand. “Come’ere, man.”

Hunk turns, grabbing Lance’s arm before coming in for a tight embrace. He ends up practically on top of his friend, but Lance doesn’t mind.

“I did this,” Hunk mumbles into Lance’s shoulder.

“What, you mean saving her? Yeah, you did.”

“No, no Lance, I _hurt_ her,” Hunk says, louder this time, pulling away so he can look Lance in the face with wide, terrified eyes. “I _did_ that,” he chokes out, pointing behind him at the healing pod and the paladin inside. “I cut her _legs_ off, Lance!” 

Lance reaches out to stop Hunk from looking back but falls short, tangled in IV lines and monitoring cables and his growing lightheadedness. He watches his best friend freeze up, staring at their younger teammate, before another sob wracks his body and sends him back into Lance’s arms.

Lance sighs before giving Hunk one last squeeze, then urges him off so he can breathe. Hunk settles on the armrest of Lance’s chair, head in his hands. 

“Look, Hunk,” Lance starts, sparing a glance at Pidge. She dangles in the healing pod, held up by a harness threaded under her arms, the stumps left of her legs hanging far from the floor. “This… this _sucks,_ man. I get it!” Lance closes his eyes, feeling his own tears coming. “But you shouldn’t feel guilty.”

“I could’ve thought it through more,” Hunk says, voice still panicked. “I could’ve tried harder to lift that door off of her, or waited for the others, or asked for help or _something!_ There might’ve been other options, but I-”

“She would’ve died, Hunk,” Lance says, cutting off Hunk’s spiral. “She would’ve died there, or we would’ve gotten captured and _then_ she would have died.” Lance’s tone is unusually grim, and Hunk can’t bring himself to look up. “That stuff you said about.. what’s it called?”

“Um, crush syndrome?”

“Yeah, that. You knew we couldn’t just lift that thing off, and I don’t even think we could’ve found a way to in time. It was too heavy.” Lance takes a deep breath, and has to lie back to keep from passing out. “I don’t think I could’ve done what you did, but it was the right thing. You acted fast, you made a tough call, and you got us out of there alive.”

Hunk’s gaze remains pinned to the floor. Lance’s heart aches; he looks so defeated.

“You’re a hero, Hunk,” Lance says, “and I know that the others think so too. And so will Pidge.”

Lance reaches out to clasp Hunk’s hand, pulling it away so Lance can see his face. He puts on the best smile he can manage and gives his friend’s hand a squeeze.

After a long, silent moment, Hunk squeezes back. “Thanks, man,” he says, wiping tears from his face with his other hand. “I needed that.”

“Any time.”

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my drafts for months and I finally finished it up for Voltron Whump Week! Maybe there'll be more chapters, maybe there won't? Either way, I'm putting my attention back onto _this world is a whirlwind_ before that happens.
> 
> Any comments, long or short, are appreciated! <3


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